Page 10 of A City of Smoke and Demons
What she’d seen in his head she’d seen before, in a book, one she wasn’t supposed to be looking at. It was the only time she could recall being scolded by a nun. Her eyes slid to the other cold box. Would she see the same thing if she let her magic inside the dead woman?
Analise rubbed her temples. Morgan would say it wasn’t her business. But a ghost led her here. He wanted her to see the mark, and now, he wanted her to know what it was. She found a pencil and a piece of paper on Morgan’s desk, then carefully copied the mark. She slid it into her pocket, rewrapped the body and pushed the metal tray back into the chilled air, wondering what she was supposed to do now.
The ghost was waiting at the end of the alley.
‘I’m sorry,’ Analise said. ‘I shouldn’t have looked. That was rude of me.’
He nodded and, side by side, they headed down the street. She wasn’t sure where they were going, letting the ghost draw her into the rowdy gaslit guts of Blackcoln Road.
Analise could sense the Familiar, his presence like an oil slick on water. She’d never felt threatened by him before, but now, the hair stood up on the back of her neck and she didn’t dare turn and look for him.
She walked quicker, the ghost flitting along beside her, and soon, Analise was standing outside The Black Lion. The ghost vanished again and the Familiar was on the other side of the street.
His eyes glowed like two black coals, like the eyes of the creature she’d seen in the dead man’s final moments. The Familiar often smiled at her, but tonight, he wasn’t smiling. Swallowing, Analise shoved open the doors to the pub to find a room full of people and her ghost, waiting at the bar.
She stood for a moment, letting her racing heart calm, trying to work out why she’d been led here, of all places, but as she spied Lira behind the bar, it made a strange sort of sense. Lira knew everyone and everything that happened in the Credges. If anyone would know, or be able to find out about a mysterious mark on a dead man’s shoulder, it would be Lira. She wouldn’t ask uncomfortable questions either. Analise ran her hand over her face, trying to smooth away how unsettled she was. The Familiar hadn’t followed her inside, but she could sense his anger from the other side of the door.
At the bar, Analise smiled at the ghost, sliding onto a stool as Lira placed a glass of whiskey in front of her.
‘You look like you need it,’ her friend commented. ‘Actually, you look terrible. Bad night at work?’
Analise shook her head, picking up the glass. The ghost was watching her. Maybe he’d enjoyed a whiskey when he was alive. She drained her drink, nodding for another, then reached into her pocket and pulled out the piece of paper. She hesitated, glancing around. Any of these men could be off-duty Gendarme, or Unseen. What would they see? A woman passing a note over the bar? Analise nudged the paper in Lira’s direction. ‘Have you ever seen that before?’
Lira examined the drawing with a frown. ‘No. Where did you see this?’
‘On the body of a dead man.’ Lira looked at her, and Analise shrugged. ‘It intrigued me. I’ve never seen it and I thought maybe you might have.’
Lira shook her head. ‘I can ask around. Can I keep this?’
Analise nodded. A cold hand touched hers and when she looked, the ghost was gone. She downed the second whiskey, letting the alcohol burn its way into her stomach.
‘Right,’ Lira commented, eyebrows raised. ‘That’s quick, even for you. Anything else I should know?’ She lowered her voice. ‘It’s been a few days since Jack punched someone and I think he’s getting edgy, so if there is some arsehole bothering you, please tell me.’
Analise managed a smile, deciding anything was better than this conversation because how would she begin to describe the Familiar? ‘That man from the other night …’
‘The ridiculously good-looking blond with the green eyes and unnaturally sculpted jaw? Hardly noticed him,’ Lira said, lips twitching.
‘Do you know him?’ Analise asked, not sure why. She never thought about them again, and had no desire to know anything about them. They could be married, or not, and she didn’t care.
‘Never seen him before. Did you get his name, at least?’
‘I don’t care what their names are,’ Analise mumbled. ‘Does that make me a whore?’
‘Do they pay you?’ Lira took the empty glass away, not returning it.
Analise shook her head.
‘Then no.’ Lira leant her elbows on the bar. ‘Tell me it was worth it.’
Analise laughed, surprised. ‘What? You’ve never asked me that.’
‘Because you’ve never taken home someone who looked like him. Tell me he knew what he was doing, at least.’
‘He did.’
Lira sighed. ‘I’ll live vicariously through your conquests while waiting for my Mr Right, or Mr Right Now. He’d do as well.’ She squeezed Analise’s hand. ‘There is nothing wrong with enjoying a man. God, men get to do whatever the hell they want, so why can’t we?’
Analise’s insides squirmed. If Lira knew why she drank and why she slept with strangers, would it change things between them? Lira was her one and only friend and she didn’t want to risk jeopardising that. Sometimes she thought it might be nice to have more friends, to make connections. Then she remembered what she was, and knew it was safer for everyone if she kept herself to herself.
